


One step to the right, one to the left- no, Potter, the other left.

by AuntRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys Kissing, Draco is a little shit, Everyone Is Gay, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slytherin Harry Potter, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball, dumbledore is gay for real, slytherins are funny okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:55:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuntRose/pseuds/AuntRose
Summary: Set during the Triwizard Tournament. Everything is the same; but Harry is a Slytherin and his best friend is a little bitch named Draco Malfoy, who just won't ask him to the Yule ball, will he?(Spoiler alert: he doesn't. He does teach Harry how to dance though.)





	One step to the right, one to the left- no, Potter, the other left.

The Hogwarts grounds were covered in snow by the time all Slytherin students were notified that their mandatory dancing lesson would take place on the first of December. Harry mentally cursed, because he had to keep a straight face in front of Snape, but mainly because Draco, sitting lazily next to him, was complaining that the lesson was useless. Useless! Of course Draco and pretty much the rest of Slytherin house would think so. Most of them came from pure blood families and had been taught dancing and aristocratic manners since they'd be born, Harry supposed. They probably knew ballroom dancing before they could read.

He'd felt a bit stupid, but hadn't joined the complaining crowd. Thankfully, Draco hadn't noticed. Or at least, Harry thought so.

"This is ridiculous," he finally grumbled one night as he watched Pansy and Blaise waltzing through the common room. The dancing lesson had gone terribly, as he had predicted, but at least Pansy, oh poor Pansy, who had been assigned as Harry's partner for the time being, had only laughed a bit before she took the lead.

"It's not," Draco snapped, not bothering to look up from his book. Of course Harry could only be talking about the Yule ball; it seemed to be all he talked about these days. "It's tradition, Potter, but I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Fine, teach me then!" Harry said as he closed his book with a 'poof!'.

"What, dancing?"

"Yeah, since you claim to be so good at it!"

Silently, Draco took the book from him to put on on top of his, already on the table in front of them, and grabbed his hands.

"What are you doing?" Harry cried out.

"Teaching you so you don't embarrass our house in front of everyone."

"Now? It can wait, I won't-"

"Getting cold feet already?” Draco teased.

“No! I-”

“You will make a fool of yourself if you can't dance," Draco cut him off. "Actually, seeing you dance with Pansy was painful. Someone ought to teach you at some point, come here."

They stood in the middle of the almost empty Slytherin common room; Harry looked around, only to see Blaise and Pansy still waltzing gracefully in the corner, although Blaise looked a bit bored. Harry wondered how could anyone be bored dancing, for he had to focus his every thoughts on not stepping over his partner's feet, but he supposed those two must have been used to it.

Draco took his hand to place it on his shoulder.

"Hey," Harry interrupted, "why am I the girl?"

"Merlin, stop complaining, we'll switch later!" Draco exclaimed, before he started to correct Harry's stance. "Straighten your back. Head high. Give me your hand."

"I feel stupid," Harry stated.

"You look stupid."

"Shut up and teach me already."

"As you wish. You already know the rhythm, don't you?"

"Yeah, one, two, three, one, two, three. Got it."

"Good to know you can count up to three," Draco smirked at Harry.

He took hold of his friend's waist and closed the distance between them, until they were no more than a foot apart.

"This is the closest you can get to your partner, any more would be considered inappropriate. Now, focus on the music."

Harry tried desperately to oblige but couldn't figure which step went with which note. Merlin, he was screwed.

"And then what?"

"I'll lead for now, you count the steps, understood?"

"Yeah."

Draco moved tentatively slow at first, and counted the first steps with Harry, without making fun of him this time. He had to learn eventually, so they might as well get this done and be over it.

"Quit looking at your feet."

"I can't, if I don't I'm going to fall."

"You won't, Merlin you are so dramatic!"

Harry looked up then, to glare at Malfoy, who was reciprocating the look. As he had predicted, he lost the rhythm and stepped over his friend's shoe.

"Ouch Potter, that was my foot!" Draco cried out, stopping their dance altogether.

"I'm sorry, I told you I have to watch my feet!"

"Dancing doesn't include watching your feet. Or stepping over your partner's for the matter."

"Sorry," Harry grumbled.

The two Slytherins resumed to their tentative dancing in relative silence.

 

 

 

 

  
"I swear to Merlin if you don't stop looking at your feet I'm blinding you," Draco threatened a couple of days later during another not-so-successful dancing lesson in their empty common room.

"Yeah, right," Harry snorted.

He should have known, though, that Draco wasn't joking, because as good as a teacher that he was, he resembled Snape a lot when he taught: detached and dead serious. Harry supposed that was to be expected, since Snape was his godfather.

Draco stilled and Harry tripped on his feet again, not expecting any of it. In a movement made smooth by habit, Draco undid his own tie, and reached behind Harry's head with it.

"What the fuck are you-"

"I warned you, I'm blinding you."

Harry let out an annoyed sigh that was more part of theatrics than heartfelt. The tie came to rest on his eyes, and Draco secured it with a bow behind Harry's head.

"Gorgeous," he remarked with a smirk.

"Shut up."

"It really suits you," Draco continued, now laughing.

"I told you to shut up!" Harry insisted, but Draco's laugh was contagious, so he didn't sound convincing, much less serious.

"Alright," Draco took Harry's hand to place it on his shoulder, "now you can only focus on the music."

"You know I'm probably going to trip over the carpet or something?"

"Yes, I'm aware Potter. It's going to be hilarious!" Draco said as he started to move at the same pace they did before; Harry tried to follow as well as he could.

It turned out that 'as well as he could' lasted merely five steps, which was more than he thought he was capable of, before his feet tangled in the carpet and Draco's arm tightened around his waist as they fell with a loud 'poof!' on the hard floor of the common room.

"For fuck's sake Potter-"

"I told you this was going to happen!" Harry defended himself before Draco was done cursing him. "Not so hilarious eh?"

The blond boy growled and let his head rest on the floor as Harry leaned on him, probably crushing him (but blind dancing was his idea, so he deserved it, really, Harry thought) to grab the tie and slip it over his head, letting it fall unceremoniously next to them.

Draco was still holding him, Harry noticed a couple of seconds later, because his hand was a warm, familiar weigh on his back.

"S'your fault anyway," Harry breathed.

"Excuse me?" Draco squealed. "I am not the wanker who trips over his feet because he can't dance!"

"Well I'm not the lousy teacher with questionable methods."

"Oh shut the fuck up."

"Come on, let me go, I'm tired. Bed time."

He tapped lightly on Draco's chest and rolled over.

"Get me up. You crushed me, I can't move," Draco whined.

"And you say I'm the dramatic one," Harry sighed.

He still offered his hand to Draco; after a quick 'finite incantatem' at the enchanted record player, the room quieted down at last as the two boys took their argument upstairs.

 

 

 

  
"So, Draco, tell me," Blaise started at breakfast the following morning. "Why were you blinding Harry with your tie last night?"

Draco stilled halfway through cutting his toast as Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, which made Draco sigh annoyingly (his specialty when it came to Harry) before he gently tapped his back.

"It's not what it looks like," Harry strangled, his face flushed.

"Oh shut up Potter," Draco said. He cleared his throat, "I am desperately trying to teach him how to dance but this idiot won't stop looking at his feet."

"Mmh," Blaise smiled innocently, and winked at Harry who was still blushing.

Pansy joined them a few moments afterwards, when Harry was no longer a bright shade of red that would have appealed to Godric Gryffindor himself and the boys had resumed to eating breakfast in an uncomfortable silence.

"You are never going to guess who my date to the Yule ball is," she said as she took the seat next to Draco.

"Me, of course," he casually answered in between two sips of coffee.

"It's Viktor Krum!" Pansy exclaimed without as much as acknowledging Draco, who almost spat out his beverage.

"I thought we were going together!"

"You didn't ask."

"Excuse me, you've only been my date to every formal event since we were eleven, I didn't think I had to ask this time since I never did!"

"Well you should have,” Pansy retorted sharply.

"Pansy, you can't leave me without a date to the Yule ball a week before it happens."

"But Viktor Krum, Draco."

"I thought he was going with Granger," Harry blurted; he’d seen them studying together in the library multiple times.

"Nah, she's going with Weasley.”

Of course Pansy would know better than Harry who was going to the Yule ball with who.

"Anyway, Harry doesn't have a date either, you two can just go together," she shrugged.

Draco spat out his coffee this time.

"What the fuck do you mean Harry doesn't have a date?" He squealed. Turning to Harry, he continued, "you don't have a date? How the fuck can you not have a date, you're Harry Fucking Potter!"

"Don't know, I didn't ask anyone. Figured I'd just go stag."

"You can't go stag, you're a champion!"

"So?"

"So? You're supposed to open the fucking ball with your date!"

"I'm… what?" Harry frowned.

"Why didn't you read the book I gave you on the Triwizard tournament?"

"I did, but errr, I skipped the part on the Yule ball and the traditions."

"Alright, we'll go together then," Draco sighed dramatically.

"Huh, no," Harry interjected. "I'm not going with you unless you ask me properly."

Blaise then laughed so loud that a few curious heads turned to the Slytherin table.

"Oh come on!" Draco exclaimed.

"Ask me and I'll consider it."

"I'm not going to ask you, you ask me!"

"Why should it be me?" Harry exclaimed.

"Because you're the champion!"

"That's bullshit."

"I don't care, I'm not going to ask you!"

Too busy with their argument, none of them noticed Blaise and Pansy laughing at them.

The same night, both boys waited until the youngest year students had gone to sleep and the last chest players were done arguing over who had enchanted the board so that the white pieces would win everytime (Draco barely contained a laugh when he overheard them). Once they were alone, at last, Harry pushed Draco's feet from his lap and grabbed him by the hands.

"Eager to dance?" Draco smirked.

"Oh shut up," Harry grumbled.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the atmosphere strangely peaceful; he only notable change was that Draco's feet no longer suffered from Harry stepping on them (Harry had never been more grateful to be a quick learner, the tie episode made him cringe when he thought about it.)

It wasn't like they didn't spend evenings together, because they did, on a regular basis. Crabbe and Goyle's small talks quickly became boring but Draco and Harry always teased and pushed and pulled and ended in loud, heated arguments in public that the older students had learnt to ignore. They were a roaring fire keeping each other warm and alive when life was doing its best to drown them.

"We're alone, yeah?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason."

"What are you worried about?"

"Nothing!"

"Potter." Draco insisted

"Isn't it, I don't know, weird that two guys are dancing together?"

"Of course not. What, are you going to tell me Muggles don't approve of it?"

"Er, no. They don't."

"That's why you haven't asked me out to the ball!" Draco exclaimed.

"No, no absolutely not!" Harry tried to argue, but he knew it was a lost cause; Draco was onto him.

"Tss, Muggles," Draco spat. "Wizards don't care who you shag, as long as your marriage results in an heir," he explained.

"Mh, makes sense I guess."

"Well why do you think Dumbledore never got married?" Draco said, an eyebrow arched as he lead Harry waltzing back near the roaring fire of the chimney.

"What, Dumbledore is gay?"

"Everyone knows that."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not!"

"I don't believe you."

Harry guessed they were back to the couch because the wood cracked louder behind him, but Draco didn't stop; he turned them slowly around to waltz back in the same direction as before. He forced himself to pay attention to the music then, because a heavy silence had taken over their conversation.

"Wait, were you serious about Dumbledore?" He asked again after a moment.

"I told you I was!"

"I'm not Pansy, Draco. I don't spend my time documenting who's dating who."

"You should spend a whole day with her. I'm sure you'd learn a lot."

"I think I'll manage to do fine, thank you."

"Why so mean to our dear Pansy?" Draco teased.

"Nothing personal, she's great-"

"You'd just rather spend the day with the incredible Draco Malfoy, obviously."

"Obviously, yes," he answered as seriously as he could, but a first chuckle escaped him, which lead to a second, and a third, and before he knew it Draco was laughing out loud too, his head thrown back.

Harry realized that he and Draco were a lot closer than they were when they started, because Draco's arm was securely wrapped around his waist, their chests separated by their uniforms only.

"There's no music anymore," he remarked.

"Doesn't matter," Draco answered under his breath.

And there, in the safety of his best friend's embrace, Harry decided it couldn't be that bad to go to the Yule Ball with him.

 

 

 

  
Harry stormed into the quiet Slytherin dormitory three days later regretting every choice he had ever made concerning Draco Malfoy.

"Are you coming or what?"

"Excuse me?" Draco drawled lazily from his bed, where he was lying and reading - was that Harry's book? - although he was dressed in fitted black velvet robes (it was Harry's book!).

"We're going to be late, come on!"

"'We'? I wasn't aware we were an item tonight."

The fake, innocent smile that painted Draco's face immensely annoyed Harry, but he forced himself to keep his cool.

"Get moving already, we can't be late!"

"I was never asked out officially," Draco stated, pushing himself up on his elbow.

"Alright, fine. Will you, Draco Malfoy, be my date to the Yule ball taking place in ten minutes?"

"Why I'm flattered mister Potter, I'd love to be your date."

"Good. Now hurry the fuck up we're gonna be late."

They didn't run through the corridors going from the dungeons because Draco didn't wish to have his hair resemble Harry's, as he worded it; but at least they weren't late. Their arrival to the Great Hall matched Crabbe and Goyle's, who had gone from the dormitories prior to Draco and Harry but obviously walked slower. They were attending the ball alone, Harry remembered. Draco must have read his mind, because he commented:

"Hey, at least you've got a date. A stunning one, at that."

"Lucky me," Harry snorted, but it was obvious the sarcasm of his tone was only half-hearted.

Professor McGonagall approached them quickly, her dark green robes floating as she ran around nervously.

"Potter! Thank Merlin you're here. If you would please stand in line with your date- oh. Mr Malfoy, good evening," she acknowledged them.

"Professor McGonagall," Draco smiled smugly.

In front of them, Pansy was holding Viktor Krum by the arm so tightly the poor champion looked a bit awkward; she, on the other hand, looked delighted. And delightful, Draco let her know as they stood near the grand entrance. The hall emptied quickly to leave the champions and their dates alone.

“Ready?” Draco whispered.

“Of course,” Harry retorted, although he didn’t know who he was trying to convince the most, Draco or himself.

The gigantic doors of the Great Hall opened at once to reveal the room decorated much differently than usual; Harry and Draco took in its a appearance as they walked in.

"Potter's date is Malfoy?"

"I should have expected it!"

Draco chuckled discreetly upon hearing the multitude of whispers coming from the crowd. He looked over at Harry, who he knew probably felt like he was parading him as a trophy boy (he kind of was, Draco admitted to himself.)

"Ready?" Harry whispered.

"Of course," Draco said, squeezing Harry's hand.

They were standing still on the dancefloor with the three other champion couples, surrounded by hundreds of curious students, when the first few notes resonated.

"If you make me spin I swear to Merlin I'll hex your bullocks off," Harry gritted through his teeth.

"Oh you're giving me ideas Potter."

"What, you want me to hex your balls off? How kinky of you," Harry stated with a completely straight face.

If Draco hadn't been a good dancer, he would have probably tripped on his feet. He kept the rhythm he had gotten Harry used to, though.

"You are never going to be appropriate, are you?"

"You started it."

"Look at us, waltzing and holding a conversation without falling on our ass."

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

"It is, yeah," Draco said, his voice dropping low.

Looking around them, they saw professors and various students joining them; soon enough, the attention on them died out, leaving them in their own bubble of odd closeness and newly found tenderness (at least, Harry thought so.)

Except, it wasn't the tenderness that was new. It was the way Harry was now hyper aware of it; their bodies mere inches apart, the warmth radiating from Draco and his familiar sent, his oddly careful touch Harry had gotten used to in the last few weeks, their hands holding each other and fitting so, so well.

But Draco's hands felt the same way they did when he ruffled Harry's hair in the morning and then strolled around the castle all day pretending such a hairdo was unacceptable, or when he smoothed Harry's shirt and tie because 'you've managed to make a respectable uniform look ungodly, Potter'.

 

 

  
"I hate that song."

"Yeah," Harry stuttered. "Yeah, me too."

"Let's get out of here."

Draco let go of Harry's waist but intertwined their fingers, leading them yet again, this time away of the excited crowd that was gathering around the stage and out of the Great Hall.

 

 

  
"Here,"

"What now?"

"I don't know."

Draco was awfully close now.

"What, huh," Harry licked his lips, "what if someone notices we're gone?"

"Does it matter?" Draco murmured.

"No," Harry breathed, before his hands came up to Draco's neck and he closed the distance between their lips in a hurry.

Electricity shot through his body. He felt as if his heart would never beat that fast again as Draco wrapped his arms around him and pressed his whole body against him, trapping Harry between him and the wall behind. He had never imagined it would be this exciting to ditch the party to go make out with his best friend in dark corners of the castle; not that he had ever thought about it before, except maybe once, or twice, or deep within the night when he thought he might have heard tiny moans coming from Draco's bed.

The same kind of small moan that Draco let out against Harry's lips and oh, fuck yes, Harry opened his lips under Draco's pressure.

"Shit," Draco swore in between kisses.

He was still so close to him that Harry felt his lips move against his own trembling ones.

It definitely wasn’t that bad to go to the Yule Ball with Draco Malfoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Who knows if people are even still interested in this ship. I've had this in my drafts for a looong while so I thought I might as well post it.  
> Don't be afraid to leave feedback, no matter how bad. Thanks again for your time, I hope you enjoyed it!


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